Now that it's behind us for, oh, 12 hours...I feel like I need to debrief a little. Let me start from the beginning.
I moved to La Grange in April and to the top floor of a 127-year-old Victorian style home. Well, I'm not sure it's Victorian, but I like to think it is. Either way it doesn't have air conditioning.
There were some surprisingly cold nights when we first moved in, but other than that, the windows have been open ever since. Until Thursday.
I loved feeling hot when it was hot out. It made me feel alive. Before this, I had always lived in environments I could control. I hadn't opened a window since I learned I had terrible allergies as a 7-year-old. Once you can't open your eyes in the morning because they're swollen shut by allergens, you become deathly afraid of an open window.
Oh the novelty of feeling hot and cold and having open windows. I felt free. I felt alive.
My new life in adorable little La Grange was romantic and small. Not only were my windows open, I was walking everywhere and hopping the train to the big city.
It wore off on Thursday. What an evil day. I'm pretty sure my apartment used to be the attic of this old house. It is spacious and has high ceilings, but it is really high up. I literally look down on other homes and it is true that heat rises.
My once beloved hard wood floors were hot and I now hated them. The orchid I placed in the dining room withered in a week. The hand soap was hot and runny. I didn't even know that could happen.
The bathroom was the worst. The toilet was hot. My once charming bathroom had morphed into a porta-potty.
I spent a lot of time hopping between Starbucks and Caribou and saw a few movies, but refused to go home. Home was where I couldn't breathe.
Anyway, I felt betrayed, although I'm not sure by whom. I closed the windows, invested in a few window AC units and bought some special curtains that are designed to keep out light. Nothing helped.
Then I woke up this morning and it was 76 degrees.
I suddenly love my little home again and have forgiven the elements.